This Is How Love Dies
by IHeartHodgela
Summary: Another angst piece, written for a ficathon on LJ. Jack and Angela's relationship begins to sour, much to the dismay of their friends.


**Characters/Pairing:** Jack Hodgins, Jack/Angela  
**Rating:** GS for Generally Sad (I enjoy making up my own rating system)  
**Disclaimer: ****Blah blah woof woof, don't own them, wish I did, would do naughty things…**  
**Summary:** points to title That says it all. An angst story, based on the prompt: _"This is how love dies … not with angry words, but with silence" – Tess Gerritsen ("Harvest"), _written for the LJ community bugsnslime.

**A/N: **When I set out to write this fic, I knew that I was going to make Angela a Queen Beeyotch. Normally when I write this nature of fic, I'm more prone to making Hodgins the jerk, so it was tough to make Angela the unlikable one. I'm sad to say that my muse has also taken another long leave of absence, and I'm not entirely sure she returned for this fic. So, if it's not up to par, I apologize, and would direct your angry comments to my muse, if I knew where the heck she was. 

**This Is How Love Dies**

Looking back on the past six months of his life, Jack Hodgins figured he should have seen it coming. He should have been able to look ahead, to put the scattered pieces of his brain back together, and realize that things were going wrong. But like a horrific car crash that you can't tear your eyes from, he was unable to look past what he wanted to see. What his heart wanted to see. And as such, when things did finally go wrong, and the world came crashing down at his feet, all he could do was stand and stare, waiting for the silence to tell him what had gone wrong.

The facts of the matter he knew. He and Angela were in love. Or rather, he was in love with her, and had been since the day he met her, on the steps of the Jeffersonian. Sure, maybe he hadn't realized quite yet what his feelings were, but he knew that when Angela walked into a room, the world stopped spinning. Just for those few seconds, or minutes when they were together – nothing else mattered.

He had fallen so hard for her, in fact, that he was unable to see the big picture. At the time, he didn't realize that there was a bigger picture than "us", than just Jack and Angela and their cuddly wuddly love. He lived for the time they spent together – whether in the supply closet at work, some abandoned office, or at home in his mansion, with the fire roaring at their feet. Those were the times he felt most at peace with the world, when he thought nothing could possibly come between them and what they had together.

He had been so stupid. Even when things had begun to change, slowly at first, he refused to open his eyes and realize what was really happening. He convinced himself that all couples argued, and fought, and that this was just something they would have to get through. Their first fight was over something stupid, something that he couldn't even remember anymore. Angela had gotten angry with him, and he, in his usual sarcastic way, had tried to brush it off. But she'd been royally pissed with him, and hadn't let him forget about it. A week after the fight, she was still giving him stone-cold glares in the office, refusing to be alone with him, and using Zack as their go-between.

"_Angela wants me to tell you that she's still angry."_

_Jack glared at Zack. "Well, Angela will just have to come in here and tell me that herself."_

_Zack stood tall, pursed his lips, and began, "There's no reason to be angry with me, Hodgins. I'm merely relaying a message from Angela."_

_Jack glared at him. "Well, you can relay this back to her," he looked over Zack's shoulder at Angela, who averted her eyes when she caught his glance, " stop being a baby, and come talk to me yourself!!"_

Their relationship had recovered from that event, and Angela had forgotten what she'd even been angry about. Jack took that to mean that it couldn't have been _that_ big of a deal anyway, but even he wasn't stupid enough to say that to her face.

A month later, Angela had gone out to dinner with a guy she'd previously dated, and hadn't thought to tell Jack about it. He'd been furious, and had stormed into her office

when he'd heard of the date through Brennan.

"_So you're playing the field again, are you?" He shouted at her._

_Angela, sitting at her desk working on a sketch, glanced up at him. Annoyance registered on her face. "What are you talking about, Hodgins?"_

"_I'm talking about you and Gaelen. Why would you go out with him, and not think to tell me?"_

"_It was just dinner, nothing happened." She returned to her work, and continued making broad strokes with her pencil._

"_Angela!" Jack came over and sat on the corner of her desk, blocking a portion of her paper. She had no choice but to look up at him now. "It's not nothing. You obviously wanted something from him, if you agreed to the dinner."_

"_Are you calling me a slut?" Angela shot up in her chair. "So now, just because we're dating, I'm banned from hanging out with other men? What, just because it upsets you? Give me a break."_

"_I won't give you a break!" He ran his fingers through his hair, sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. "I just think it's something you should run by your __**boyfriend **__first!"_

"_Why, so you can forbid me? That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. I'm not a piece of property that you can own and control. I have a life, Hodgins. MY life. Just because you're a part it now, doesn't mean I have to stop living like I did before."_

And again, after the fact Angela had been angry with him, and had refused to acknowledge his presence for a few days afterwards. But time passed, and eventually they would be on speaking terms again.

The part that should have bothered him at the time, but that he never really took note of, was that once they were speaking again, nobody apologized. If it was she who had been overly sensitive about a situation, she never came to him and said, "I'm sorry", or "I was being foolish". And if it was him who was being overprotective, or trying to rush things, he never came to her and said he was sorry, or being foolish. They would just begin talking again, and act as though nothing had happened.

He had never really loved a woman like Angela before, and so he chalked his naivety up to not knowing what to expect. He hadn't had many serious relationships before Angela, and had mostly dated women he had some stance over. But with Angela, he never knew what to expect. She was wild, and made mention many times in their relationship that he could not "tame her", and it was useless to try. She had lived the big life before they had started dating, and made no promises that the life would stop just because they'd gotten together.

After they had been dating for a month, he'd told her that he loved her. He thought it was something she wanted to hear, and it was something he had wanted to say to her. They were having a quiet night at his place, sitting out by his large pool in the backyard. She was lying on a blanket, her eyes closed, but not asleep. He had been sitting up beside her, gazing at the stars above their heads. The words slipped from his lips, his voice confident and assured. At first, she had said nothing, hadn't even opened her eyes. He could hear her breathing, saw the corner of her mouth begin to twitch, and he knew she had heard him. Slowly, she had opened her eyes, sat up, and kissed him softly. No words, no echo of adoration;, just a kiss, and then she had resumed her position on the blanket.

The next time he had told her those three words, they were out in public, dining at a restaurant they'd been to before. This time, when he said it, she had smiled at him, touched his hand, and said, "I know you do". And though she hadn't said it back to him, it hadn't really bothered him until about the twentieth time he had said it to her. They were at work, and had just enjoyed a romp in the Greek storage room. Artifacts from half way across the world were on storage shelves above their heads, and they were on a blanket in the middle of the room.

"_I love you," he said, a grin breaking across his face. _

"_Mmm," Angela replied. _

_Jack sat up, pulled part of the blanket over himself. "Why do you always do that?" _

_Angela rolled over on her side, propped herself up on an elbow. "Do what?" She asked._

"_That!" Jack said, his voice rising. "I tell you that I love you, and you … you don't say it back. You either tell me you know, or you grin, or made some noncommittal little noise. You've never said it back."_

_Angela pulled the blanket from him, stood, and wrapped it around herself. "Why do you want to hear me say it so badly, Hodgins? Why does that even matter?"_

"_Because!" He was growing frustrated, and his voice echoed this. "Because I don't know if you do."_

"_Well, everyone knows that you do," she said, sarcastically. "You practically announce it to the entire office on a daily basis. How do I even know that you mean it? You throw those three words around so much…"_

"_Because I do, Angela. I do love you. But I'm beginning to think that maybe the feeling's not mutual…"_

_Angela laughed, and shook her head. She began pulling on her clothes hastily. She walked towards the door, stopped, and turned to face him. "You know what? If you really loved me, then you would know in your heart, Jack. You wouldn't need to hear me say those words to you. You, Jack Hodgins, are a very, very insecure man."_

And yet, as months passed, and their relationship grew, she never once told him she loved him. He continued to serenade her with those three little words, hoping that just once, she would echo the sentiments. But she never did. He learned to stop asking her about it, stop making reference to the fact that she hadn't professed her love for him. He knew she had a short fuse, and in the last two months, he had been as careful with her as with a loaded gun. Watching what he said, thinking before he spoke to her, weighing the possible outcomes of what he was about to say.

It was Zack who took notice of this, and thought it relevant to bring it up when the two were working on a case, Angela having gone with Brennan to a crime scene.

"_I've noticed that you pause before you speak to Angela. Perhaps you are afraid of what she will say to you, or perhaps you are just trying to say the right things to keep her happy."_

_Jack glared at him. "Never mind."_

"_But I do mind," Zack said. He looked up from the full set of teeth he was picking through, and met Jack's gaze. He shook his head. "I don't think it makes you happy anymore. I'm not sure you and Angela belong together, if being with her is making you this way."_

"What are you talking about, Zack?"

"_You've become sullen, and … quiet. You used to spout out conspiracy theories for everything, match wits with Booth on whatever case it was we were taking on. Now, you just go along with everyone. You don't make a fuss. I liked it when you made a fuss. It made things interesting around here."_

_Jack made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a growl. Zack's eyes grew wide._

"And now I've made you angry. I can see that." He pursed his lips. "But think about what I said. If she's not making you happy anymore, maybe you should get out before either of you is hurt any further."

Jack had contemplated his best friend's words for days, had turned down dinners and dates with Angela, thinking about what had been said. In his heart, he knew that he loved Angela, and he knew that when he was with her, he was happiest. Or at least he had been. He thought back on all they had been through, all the hardships, and the roadblocks that had been thrown in their way. They had triumphed over all of that, and were still standing – united. Surely that meant that they were good together, and should stay that way.

But Zack's words had haunted him. He began to notice little things that Angela said, and did. How she acted when she was around him at work, and outside of the office. He noticed that she constantly called him "Hodgins", whether they were in the throws of passion, or working on a case with the rest of the Squints. Before they had begun dating, and when things were still fresh between them, she'd called him "Hodgie" a few times, and the name had thrilled him. But now, whether she was referring to him, or speaking with him, he had become "Hodgins" again.

_Jack placed the plate of bagels between them on the table, and sat down._

"_Thanks, Hodgins," Angela said, not glancing up from the paper before her. _

"_Why do you call me that?" He asked._

_Now she glanced up to meet his eyes. "Call you what?"_

"'_Hodgins'"_

_She shrugged, eyes narrowing. "Because it's your name."_

"_My name is Jack," he said._

"_Well, yeah, but everyone else calls you "Hodgins"," she replied._

"_Yeah, but you're not 'everyone else', Angela. You're my girlfriend."_

_She stood up, grabbed a bagel in one hand, a packet of cream cheese in the other. She rolled her eyes at him. "Fine. Goodbye, __**Jack**__." _

The last few arguments they had were civil, but at the conclusion of each one, she had walked out on him. It was as though she'd said her part, and was then able to leave the conversation. Not once had he been the one to walk away, and not once had he ever been ready to end the conversation at hand. But as much as Angela seemed to enjoy confrontation and drama, she found solace in avoidance, and if she could physically leave the conversation when things grew heated, she took any opportunity to do so.

Yet when the time came to make his move, to do his part, the angry words were nowhere to be found. During all of their arguments, they had both flung heated words at each other, both attempted to hurt the other with their jabs. He began to think that this was the way it would be forever, with them arguing, then making up, and then arguing again. He half expected her to tell him they were through every single time they fought, especially in the last few weeks. She'd get so angry that a dark blush would creep across her cheeks, and she'd puff out her cheeks, hands on her hips, and glare at him. But the words never came, and he knew that he'd have to be the bigger person, and he'd have to make the move.

_They sat on the edge of her bed, in the cramped bedroom of her apartment. They were both fully clothed, sitting side by side, yet not touching. Both were looking forward, at the dull white walls of the bedroom. Jack had come there with so much to say, so many words rehearsed in his mind. But none were coming, and for some odd reason, it just felt right._

_He stood up and turned to face her. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jack lifted his arm, placed a finger over her lips, and shook his head sadly. She closed her mouth, eyes beginning to tear. _

_He just studied her. The soft lines around her pouted mouth, the soft, high cheekbones that gave way to the big pools of liquid chocolate that were her eyes. He thought of what they had been through, all that had been said, and all that had not been said. All of the angry words that had been spoken in the last six months of their lives, whether intentional or not, and all of the ensuing blow-ups._

_He reached forward, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her. He felt a jolt, but the kiss was short, and her expression hadn't changed. At one time, he would have done anything for this woman, and he truly felt like the rest of their lives would be spent together. And now, as he turned and walked away from her, out of her bedroom, her apartment, and evidently her life, he felt nothing but an eerie calm. And as he exited the apartment building and began walking down the street, a bitter laugh erupted from his throat. He thought to himself how ironic it was that this is how love dies. Not with angry words, but with silence._


End file.
